


Late Night Thirst

by weabooflower



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Keith (Voltron), Praise Kink, Rimming, Slight S2 spoilers, hoooo boy here wE GO, keith is thirsty and shiro is HOT, only at the end tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weabooflower/pseuds/weabooflower
Summary: Keith is having trouble sleeping and ventures out to get a drink.





	

**Author's Note:**

> buckle up sheith lovers it's a bumpy ride. (i say this is for a friend but this is so self indulgent)  
> written for my lovely friend @wetkeith on tumblr  
> couldn't write this without @eel-boy on tumblr either, you're the best
> 
> this is just 6k words of pwp

Keith woke up for what seemed like the tenth time that night. He rolled over with a groan to check the clock on the end table by his bedside. It blinked 3:28 at him, bright red numbers reflecting off the half full glass of water next to it; almost thirty minutes had passed since he last woke up. Kicking his legs free from his blanket, Keith swung up and let his bare feet touch the chilly floor with a yawn. He stretched and rose from his bed, sluggishly walking out and heading to the kitchen.  
  
Hunk had suggested drinking whatever alien drink concoction he had created if he couldn’t sleep, and that’s exactly what Keith was going to do. Or, what he had been planning to do, before he passed the training room. Keith normally trained until he was tired enough to go to sleep, and that seemed like a pretty good Plan B. Peeking in, Keith noticed that the training room was not vacant like he’d expected.  
  
Swinging a sword around with quiet grunts was none other than Shiro, going through his own personal drills, clearly focused. He was soaked with sweat, his white cotton tank top sticking to his body and leaving nothing to the imagination. His drawstring pants hung low on his hips, and Keith let out a quiet squeak behind his palm at the sliver of skin between Shiro’s shirt and pants. Keith knew he should leave, go back to bed, but his legs felt weak, as if he would collapse any minute. The feeling tingled all the way up to his stomach, a sweet numbness curling at the pit of it. The sweat on his palms couldn’t be wiped away on his t-shirt or boxers, and he couldn’t loosen the collar at his neck any more than it already was. Gnawing at his lips, Keith leaned against the doorframe for support, his face hot.  
  
The way Shiro’s biceps flexed as he swung the sword made Keith, fleetingly, think about joining him to train, but there was no way his legs could handle any movement right now. Shiro paused his drill to peel the shirt off of his body, and Keith almost slid to the floor. Running his Galra tech fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, Shiro slicked his white locks out of his face before continuing with his drills, without the sword this time. Keith knew Shiro excelled at hand-to-hand combat, but he could hardly even recall the technique at that moment, as all Keith could look at was Shiro’s muscled back and stomach, both sporting a sheen of sweat that glistened in the light.  
  
Keith shifted his weight from one leg to the other, becoming increasingly aware of how hot the rest of his body had become, yet he had no motivation to pry away from the scene in front of him. Keith had begun to imagine what might happen if Shiro noticed his presence. Would they retire to Shiro’s room for the night? Or perhaps his? Keith thought of Shiro taking him right there in the training room, and he let out a soft whine, desire washing over him in waves. Keith definitely preferred the latter. However, the floor was hard and cold, not that Keith minded too much, and Keith would ask nicely, since that would lead Shiro to--  
  
“Please just fuck me.”  
  
Shiro had paused his movements, and Keith’s eyes flew open, his hands covering his mouth, pressing hard. Keith panicked; Shiro was turning towards the door, and Keith’s legs felt as if they were set in stone. Keith let another panicked muffle escape from his mouth, as he fled away from the training room, one moment too late, back towards his room.  
  
Keith’s bare feet echoed throughout the hallway as he ran back to his room, opening the door and closing it behind him. Resting his back against it, heartbeat loud in his ears, Keith’s chest heaved, attempting-- and failing-- to gather his thoughts. So much for his good night drink. Looking down at the straining, slightly damp swell in his boxers, Keith defeatedly trudged over to his bed and crawled underneath it. He palmed the bulge outside of his underwear and swallowed his voice down, drowning Shiro’s name in his pillow when his fingers dipped below the waistband.

*

Keith slept like shit that night. And the night after that, as well as the night after that. He would wake up in a sweat at some ungodly hour, groan at the time, take a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand, and rub one out to the thought of Shiro taking him on the goddamn training room floor.  
  
He had everything all planned out in his little fantasy. Shiro, training in those drawstring pants and no shirt. Or maybe a shirt soaked with sweat, clinging to his skin, almost transparent. He would join Shiro, confidently, of course, and they would have a sparring session. Shiro would compliment how well he was doing, but would best him anyway, knocking him to the floor and pinning him down. Shiro then would let his hands roam, but would get down to business, and that cold floor soon became scorching hot, enveloping them until they melted.  
  
Keith bit into his pillow and groaned as he rolled his hips, fucking up into his closed fist. Would Shiro be rough with him? Eager to get started, but sweet when he finished? Keith heard himself crying out in the silence of his room, slick sounds of precome loud in his ears, breath hot against the pillowcase, wet with saliva and sweat. Keith’s free hand had two fingers deep in between his legs, begging for Shiro’s cock being there instead. He pushed his fingers in as far as they would go and rubbed against his prostate, abusing it, so close to the edge he could cry. Shiro’s name was thick on his tongue as he desperately called out into his pillow, shuddering into a ball as he came in his fist, toes curling against the bedsheets.  
  
Breathing fast and heavy, Keith laid there in the fetal position until he regained movement in his legs. Slipping his fingers out first before sitting up slowly, Keith grabbed a tissue and cleaned his hands and in between his legs. Hitching his underwear from his knees back into place, Keith crushed the used tissue into a ball and dropped it to the floor, barely making a mental note to throw it away tomorrow morning. Keith then rolled over to face the wall, and fell back into a restless sleep, trying not to think of how he’d have to face Shiro tomorrow.

*  
Shiro had noticed. Whether or not Keith noticed Shiro’s advances in turn was another thing. The following week after the training room incident, Keith had ignored Shiro in the daytime almost completely. He still followed orders with a “yes sir” in battle, and acted somewhat accordingly when all paladins were around, albeit being less conversational than usual; however, when it was just the two of them, Keith opted to leave first. Shiro had tried to catch Keith when he seemed free, suggesting a sparring session, in which Keith feverishly shook his head and retired to his room. Lance bitterly had said he was “moodier than usual” and for Shiro to “leave him alone, and let him be difficult.” Shiro was having a hard time doing that, especially since he knew why.  
  
Going to Keith’s room and knocking, sincerely asking if he was okay, Shiro only got quick, half assed answers. At times, Keith’s excuses seemed strained, his voice faint. Shiro didn’t push it, and left him alone, as both Lance and Keith suggested he do.  
  
By the fifth day, enough was enough. Shiro always considered himself to be a patient man, but this was going too far; it was affecting Keith’s, as well as his own, performances in battle. Shiro had dropped a few subtle hints of his interest when the other paladins weren’t paying attention, causing Keith to get red up to his ears and leave the room as quickly as he could. Shiro knew the way Keith had looked at him, back at the Garrison and now here, as if the year of disappearance did nothing to hinder Keith’s feelings. Shiro had appreciated it, but whenever he showed any interest, Keith fled his advances and focused on things elsewhere. Quite frankly, Shiro was getting annoyed. However, patience yielded focus, so he diligently carried on with things as usual, dropping more hints than he used to. If Keith wasn’t going to respond, Shiro was going to end up making his feelings very obvious very soon.

*

As if on schedule, Keith woke up in the middle of the night, sweat coating his hairline and the back of his neck. Glancing over at the clock that blinked 2:20 at him, he decided that he didn’t want the lukewarm water that sat next to it. Sitting up cross legged, the small tent pitched in his boxers almost seemed to mock him. Keith, out of spite, swung his legs over his bed and padded out of his room, tugging his black t-shirt down over it. He was going to get that damned drink Hunk had suggested and get some sleep for once.  
  
Walking down the hallway, Keith unconsciously tensed as he approached the training room. He already saw the light on, as well as heard the soft grunts coming from inside. Who else would be up at some ungodly hour other than him and Shiro? Biting his lip, Keith told himself to just keep walking, to not stop and peek for more material to jerk to. Of course, against his better judgement, Keith peeked anyway, and let out a sigh at the beautiful sight of shirtless Shiro, in those damned drawstring pants, going through one of his many martial art sequences. Did he do this every night? A part of Keith wanted to find out, his sleep schedule was already fucked, might as well enjoy it. He wanted to stay, to watch Shiro’s wonderfully shirtless body twist and flex, sweat glistening from the illuminated room. However, all good things had to eventually come to an end. Shiro, by chance, had turned to face the door at the end of his training drill, and Keith’s cock twitched in his underwear as they locked eyes; it was beyond time to go.  
  
“Keith?”  
  
Well, shit.  
  
Keith practically ran to the kitchen, grabbed the first glass he saw and filled it with water, drinking as fast as he could. Why the hell did this happen to only him? Shiro had noticed him. Keith saw how those eyes dropped from his face, down to the very noticeable bulge in his boxers. Whether the fact that Shiro’s eyes had looked dark and hungry was just Keith’s dick thinking or not, he really didn’t know. A small part of him really wished it was true. His body felt as if he were burning up, and one glass of water wasn’t cooling him down. Turning the cold water back on again, Keith breathed unevenly as he filled another glass, hands shaking. Literally, what the hell was he thinking? Keith groaned as he drank, slower this time, then pressed the cool glass against his heated forehead. So much for sleeping. Keith glanced up at the clock and it read 2:45; Keith let out a sigh looking down at the semi-wet tent in his boxers, Keith pulled his shirt down over it with a frown. This was all his dick’s fault. Finishing the rest of his water, Keith turned to exit the kitchen and walk back to his room, alien drink forgotten.  
  
Shiro most likely had left the training room, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Sighing again, Keith rubbed his eyes and rounded the corner. A hand flew out from Keith’s right, and pulled Keith down the hall, pressing his back against the cool tile. Keith immediately went to defend himself, but froze when he looked up to find Shiro pinning him to the wall with one hand on his shoulder and the other at his hip, resting on those damned drawstring pants. Keith began to try to relax and play it cool, but before he could open his mouth, Shiro spoke.  
  
“Keith, what are you doing up this late?”  
  
He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.  
  
“Uh,” Keith began, throat feeling dry despite all that water he just drank, “getting a drink.” Shiro quirked an eyebrow, and Keith wanted to shrink into his shirt. Keith’s face flushed, and he avoided eye contact. “Why? Uh, what-what’s up?”  
  
Shiro loosened his grip on Keith’s shoulder before he slowly slid his thigh in between Keith’s legs, causing Keith to startle and move up on his toes, blush creeping down his neck.  
  
“I think we need to have a little chat.” Shiro’s breath was hot against Keith’s ear, and he rose his shoulders to shutter, hyper-aware of how easily it would be to grind down against Shiro’s thigh.  
  
Keith shook his head to clear it, and rose on his toes a little more to keep himself from thinking that. “About what?” Keith closed his eyes after his voice broke. He could already feel himself getting ready to lay in his own grave.  
  
Shiro hummed, as if thinking of what to say, before he slowly, so slowly, pushed his thigh up and pressed it up against the bulge in Keith’s boxers, earning a muffled groan from behind Keith’s tightly pursed lips.  
  
“You know.”  
  
Keith parted his lips and sighed, his face red enough to compete with the red cloth of his boxers. Shakily, Keith raised his arms from the wall and braced himself on Shiro’s shoulders, knitting his eyebrows together and trying to even out his breathing before he spoke.  
  
“I… didn’t mean to ignore you,” he began, breathless, “and what I said the other night was… an accident…” he said, his voice still faint despite all of the concentration it took to form that sentence.  
  
“What did you say?” Shiro pressed further, and Keith couldn’t help the quiver in his hips that gave away his urge to press back.  
  
“Sh-Shiro, please-” Keith gasped, curling his fingers against Shiro’s bare shoulder, nails scraping the skin faintly.  
  
Keith hung his head low, his bangs falling in his face. His eyelids were heavy, and he couldn’t help but stare at Shiro’s stomach, and didn’t stop his eyes when they drifted lower. Keith’s tongue wet his lips at the realization that Shiro was definitely affected by this too.  
  
“Please, what?” Shiro asked evenly, hand moving from Keith’s shoulder up to the back of his neck, gently stroking the heated skin there before slowly taking a fistfull of hair and tugging slightly, making Keith look up at him. “Tell me what you said.”  
  
Keith moaned outwardly, eyelids fluttering closed as he leaned his whole body towards Shiro’s, finally letting the full weight of his hips meet Shiro’s thigh, unconsciously moving against it. “I said… pl-please,” he began, taking in a shaky breath and opening his eyes to meet Shiro’s, “fuck me.”  
  
Shiro smiled, looking pleased, and let go of Keith’s hair.  
  
“I’d love to,” he said against Keith’s ear, so he could feel the press of lips and warm breath against him, smiling more when Keith shivered.  
  
Shiro removed his thigh, Keith nearly fell against him, breathing unevenly. Keith didn’t think he could move his legs, much less push himself off of Shiro’s body. He could feel rather than hear Shiro’s laugher, and Keith nearly melted. When Shiro took a step back away from the wall, Keith tightened his grip on Shiro’s shoulders, unable to follow with his own legs.  
  
“I… can’t walk,” Keith admitted sheepishly, blush scorching his cheeks.  
  
Shiro took a moment to register, then chuckled. He moved his hands to Keith’s waist, gently guiding him closer before lifting him up into his arms. Keith let out a yelp, face burning as Shiro cupped his ass, giving it a firm squeeze before turning to walk down the hallway. Keith clung to Shiro’s neck, his legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He pressed his forehead into the crook of his elbow, breathing unevenly as he slowly rocked their hips together. The loose fabric of Shiro’s drawstring sweatpants indicated that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and that made Keith rut harder.  
  
“Stop squirming, we’ll be there soon,” Shiro said suddenly, with a hint of urgency, into Keith’s ear.  
  
Keith turned his head and began leaving soft kisses against Shiro’s neck. “Takashi, hurry,” he breathed, causing Shiro to fumble his footing. Keith nearly smiled, extremely pleased with himself as Shiro sped up.  
  
Upon arriving at Keith’s room, Shiro immediately pressed Keith’s back to his mattress and their chests together, kissing him feverishly. Keith could barely keep up, leaning up to meet Shiro’s kisses whenever their lips parted. Shiro pushed his knee in between Keith’s legs, allowing Keith to grind down against him, hips lifting to rub against his thigh before moving back down to his knee. Shiro moved his lips to Keith’s neck, hand fisting in Keith’s shirt before moving back enough to pull it off of him.  
  
“Say my name again for me, Keith,” Shiro spoke, voice low and husky as he took one of Keith’s nipples in his mouth.  
  
“Shiro,” Keith muttered. He combed his fingers through Shiro’s hair, making a fist as Shiro kissed down his chest to his stomach.  
  
“No.” Shiro looked at Keith’s face with the hint of a smile, mouth pressing against Keith’s hip bone, a finger hooked in the band of his boxers.  
  
“Takashi,” Keith breathed, face heating up as Shiro smiled at him and pulled his boxers down to his knees, then off entirely.  
  
“Perfect, baby, you’re perfect,” Shiro praised. He kissed alongside Keith’s inner thigh, spreading his legs apart. Keith shuttered at the praise and groaned.  
  
“Again,” Shiro said before taking Keith’s cock into his mouth.  
  
Keith gasped, thighs quivering as he arched his back off the bed, his grip on Shiro’s hair tightening. His eyelids fluttered closed and he gently rocked into the heat of Shiro’s mouth.  
  
“Takashi,” he whined, needing Shiro to praise him again.  
  
Shiro hummed in approval, causing Keith to moan loudly, loving how Shiro’s mouth felt. Shiro slid his tongue up from the base to the tip, swirling it around the tip for much longer than he needed to. Keith’s legs began to shake with the constant tongueing at the slit. He sighed in relief when Shiro took him back in his mouth, tongue flat against the underside of his cock as he closed his lips around it. Shiro’s hands began to wander, one rubbing against Keith’s thigh while the other smoothly ran up and down Keith’s stomach. Shiro gently pushed Keith’s hips down when they rose up as he bobbed his head up and down, tongue pressing against Keith’s frenum.  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut, Keith hid them in the crook of his elbow, on the brink of feeling overwhelmed. Shiro rose his head, ceasing his movements.  
  
“Keith, baby, look at me,” he instructed lowly.  
  
Keith hesitated before slowly moving his arm, peeking down at Shiro and letting their eyes meet.  
  
Shiro smiled, approval on his lips. “Good. Now don’t look away.” His sinful mouth engulfed Keith’s leaking cock again, eye contact never breaking.  
  
Keith almost came right then and there, his mouth falling open on a moan. Shiro’s gray eyes were stormy and intense. Keith fisted the sheets and did nothing to stop his spew of quiet sounds and heavy, laboured breaths. Keith’s eyelids fluttered when Shiro slid the hand off his stomach up to his hand and laced their fingers together, grounding Keith more than he thought it would; however, Keith’s climax was rapidly approaching.  
  
“Shiro…” Keith breathed, squeezing Shiro’s hand. When Shiro didn’t answer him, Keith sighed, frustrated. “Takashi,” he whined, shifting his hips.  
  
Shiro rose his head, moving one hand to Keith’s cock to stroke in place of his mouth. “What is it, baby?” Shiro asked with a smile, thumb rubbing against Keith’s spit-slicked frenum.  
  
Keith’s cheeks burned and he pursed his lips; thinking straight was becoming increasingly difficult with Shiro’s wrist twisting his cock perfectly.  
  
“I’m close, so… maybe we should…” he trailed off, moving his hips again. “I want to come with you. At the end.”  
  
“There’s still one thing I wanted to do.” Shiro stopped his hand, pausing to think. “Turn over for me?”  
  
“I…” Keith paused, uncurling his grip in Shiro’s hair before mumbling, “okay.” He let go of Shiro’s hand and rolled over onto all fours, pressing his face into his pillow and arching his back. Presenting himself to Shiro like this had an embarrassed blush burning his cheeks and shoulders.  
  
Shiro smiled, reaching down to slide a palm up Keith’s back, before lightly dragging his fingernails back down. Keith shuttered and let out a soft moan when Shiro kissed his lower back, and spread his legs open.  
  
“Keith, do you have any-”  
  
“Top drawer,” Keith mumbled, face heating up more as Shiro leaned over him to reach into the top drawer, pulling out Keith’s bottle of lubricant.  
  
“You use this quite a lot, don’t you?” Shiro commented, feeling the weight of the the half empty bottle in his palm.  
  
He laughed when Keith half-heartedly reached a hand back to swat at him blindly. Shiro caught his hand and kissed his fingers one by one before reaching his palm. Giving it a firm squeeze before letting go, Shiro turned his attention to between Keith’s spread thighs. Keith had expected the cool, slick feeling of lubricated fingers against his flesh, and swore loudly into the pillow when Shiro’s tongue was opening him up instead.  
  
“Fu- ah, Sh-Shiro, please-” Keith begged into his pillow, biting it to silence himself. He arched his back and rocked his hips back against Shiro’s tongue, which was deliciously moving around inside of him. He attempted to still his movements; the underside of his cock rubbing against the sheets was increasingly becoming too much.  
  
“You’re doing so well for me, baby,” Shiro complimented with a smile. He pressed a kiss to Keith’s cheek before licking a stripe from Keith’s perineum back into the heat of his hole that eagerly awaited him.  
  
Shiro laid his tongue flat to kiss and lick his way inside, rubbing and pushing against Keith’s inner walls before stiffening his tongue to penetrate him deeper. Keith squirmed and groaned helplessly below him, toes curling in ecstasy. He choked out a moan when Shiro gently grazed his teeth against his skin before kissing and sucking down to Keith’s inner thighs, intentionally leaving red marks in his wake. Gently scraping his blunt nails against the back of Keith’s thighs, Shiro leaned to kiss up Keith’s back, massaging his thighs and cheeks as he did so, until he reached the back of his neck.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Shiro asked, voice husky yet sweet. He dipped his head low to gently nuzzle at Keith’s hair and kiss his shoulder.  
  
“Like you need to rinse your mouth out before you even think of kissing me again,” Keith mumbled weakly, pointing to the half full glass of water that rested next to his clock; it was 3:16 in the morning, barely half an hour since his time in the kitchen. It felt like an eternity had passed.  
  
Shiro laughed into his ear, sitting up and muttering an ‘if you say so’ before picking up the glass and drinking from it, swishing the liquid in his mouth before swallowing. Keith faintly wished he could be that water.  
  
“How do you feel?” Keith asked, turning to look at him as Shiro put the glass down. “I haven’t… touched you at all.” He flickered his gaze down the the tent pitched in Shiro’s drawstring pants; it was almost painful to look at, strained against the fabric as it was.  
  
Shiro gave a weak laugh. “I’ve certainly been better...” He cut himself off as Keith rolled back against him, the cleft of his ass rubbing deliciously against the swell in Shiro’s pants.  
  
“Keith,” Shiro hissed, his left hand reaching down and firmly grasping Keith’s ass, bowing his body forward.  
  
Keith smirked to himself, pleased with the reaction Shiro displayed for him, and pulled back to repeat the action. Shiro let a low, guttural growl escape his throat; both hands were now on Keith’s backside, spreading his cheeks apart as Shiro pressed against him. Quiet fuck, yes, and Keith’s escaped Shiro’s parted lips, fingers digging into Keith’s flesh, blunt nails biting half crescents into him. Shiro’s breathing became more laboured, and eventually he forced himself away from Keith, much to both of their dismay. Keith turned his head back to catch Shiro pushing his pants down, kicking them off with haste, and he made a strangled noise at the back of his throat at the sight of Shiro’s cock springing free.  
  
“Do you want to be on your back or stay like this?” Shiro asked breathlessly, kneeling on the bed behind Keith as he opened the forgotten bottle of lubricant.  
  
“I want to look at you,” Keith spoke, voice raw with honesty. He rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, hair mussed from the pillow.  
  
Shiro gave him a smile, parting Keith’s legs and settling in between, lubricant on his fingers as he pressed against his entrance. Not pressing into, just gently rubbing until Keith opened up for him naturally. Keith brought a hand up to press his palm flat against Shiro’s chest, sliding it up to his shoulder, then further up to the back of his neck. Shiro slowly pushed a finger in.  
  
It was hot. Shiro held himself back from thrusting his fingers in, instead taking Keith’s mouth with his own and claiming him. Keith was definitely loosening up; however, Shiro didn’t want to hurt Keith, so he was going to go at Keith’s pace.  
  
“I’m good,” Keith said, locking their eyes and guiding Shiro down to meet his lips. “Keep going.”  
  
Shiro groaned against Keith’s mouth, capturing his bottom lip with his teeth. Pushing his finger in deeper, Shiro methodically worked Keith up until he could easily push two fingers in and out, scissoring them apart. Keith had one arm around Shiro’s neck and the other gripping Shiro’s bicep, squeezing a fraction tighter when Shiro massaged against his prostate, legs jolting.  
  
“Feel good?” Shiro asked with a smile, pressing the two digits against Keith’s prostate again before Keith could answer. Any words he had died on his lips as a moan replaced them.  
  
“Yes,” Keith gasped, squeezing Shiro’s bicep and tightening around the fingers, still positioned against the soft nub, persistently rubbing against it.  
  
Shiro, extremely pleased with himself, finally let up when Keith stopped suppressing the noises in his throat, tilting his head back until it softly hit the pillow, Adam’s apple exposed. Shiro leaned down to kiss at his neck and coaxed Keith’s head to turn towards him, slipping his tongue through Keith’s parted lips. Shiro could easily press three fingers in, and their kisses became fire. Keith extended his hand down to catch Shiro’s wrist, gasping his name against his lips. Shiro pulled back, breathing uneven, licking his lips to wet them. Keith’s voice was absolutely delightful.  
  
“Good?” Shiro asked, voice low, retracting his fingers as Keith let him go.  
  
Keith nodded, already missing Shiro’s fingers. “Hurry.”  
  
Keith didn’t have to tell him twice.  
  
Shiro fumbled with the bottle of lubricant, opening it and quickly slicking himself up, movements clumsy, eager to press into the heat of Keith’s body.  
  
Shiro positioned himself with one hand, the other pressed flat against Keith's chest where he could feel the heartbeat flutter beneath his fingers.  
  
Keith’s nails gently scratched at Shiro’s shoulder while the other hand slid on top of Shiro’s.  
  
“Keith,” Shiro groaned, voice breaking as he pushed himself inside.  
  
Keith’s natural instinct was to tense up, clamping down, causing a moan to rip from Shiro’s throat, sweat beading near his hairline. Keith offered a breathy apology and eased up, cheeks a wonderful shade of red. Shiro bent down to kiss Keith until he was pliant and relaxed and allowing Shiro to push in until he bottomed out out, both letting out a long moan against each other’s lips.  
  
Shiro began thrusting shallowly, watching Keith’s face for discomfort and easing the dull pain with peppered kisses along his cheeks and jawline. Shifting their fingers until they intertwined, Keith squeezed Shiro’s hand, lifting up his hips and pressing against Shiro’s thrusts. Breathing out through his nose, Shiro gave Keith’s hand one last squeeze before moving both palms down his chest to his waist, holding on and pressing his thumbs down against the soft spot just below the jut of Keith’s hip bone. Positioning their hips at a better angle, Shiro sped up his thrusts, body bowing forward a fraction, face knit together in concentration. As badly as Shiro wanted to close his eyes and lose himself in the sensation, he kept his eyes open, making himself look at Keith.  
  
Keith’s eyebrows were screwed up in the most sincere way, mouth open and letting every obscene sound spill from those lips. The hand that was on Shiro’s shoulder fell to wrap around his cock, stroking desperately in time with Shiro’s fast paced thrusts, back arching; the other was tangled in his own hair, gripping the pillowcase along with his ink black locks in a tight fist.  
  
Keith, Shiro noticed, liked having his hair pulled. Smirking at this revelation, Shiro positioned himself just so, and with a snap of his hips, drove himself forward to hit Keith’s prostate. Keith dug his fingernails in his scalp and arched off the bed with a raw, open mouthed moan. The grip around his cock tightened considerably, as well as his body clamping down on Shiro, causing a long, drawn out groan to rip from Shiro’s throat, pressing both thumbs into Keith’s hip bones. The slow intimacy from earlier had disappeared, and fire had ignited in its wake.  
  
“Takashi,” Keith began, purple eyes opening to gaze up into Shiro’s, “if you don’t start fucking me, I’m climbing on top of you and doing it myself.”  
  
Inhaling sharply, all of Shiro’s patience snapped. Pulling Keith’s hips closer to his own, he continued to hit that spot until Keith’s cries became mute, his mouth open but no sound coming out. Keith’s toes curled into the sheets as he fucked into his hand, and back into Shiro’s cock, saliva running down his chin. Keith was an absolute mess, and Shiro loved every bit of it. Bending over to kiss Keith’s bruised lips, Shiro raked his tongue over Keith’s own as Keith released the hand from his hair, and slid it up into Shiro’s.  
  
“Come here,” Keith gasped, wrapping his legs around Shiro’s hips. Shiro’s palms left Keith’s waist, slid up his flank, and embraced him closely, still thrusting at a punishing pace.  
  
Keith’s legs made it awkward, heel digging into Shiro’s lower back. Shiro muttered something against Keith’s lips, and pulled back, taking Keith’s ankles and draping his legs over Shiro’s shoulders, returning down to kiss at Keith’s jaw, chests flush together. Keith reveled in the closeness of it, and moaned into Shiro’s ear, both of his hands wrapped around him, one in his hair and one splayed across his shoulder blade. Shiro rocked into him, groaning into Keith’s ear and pressing feverish kisses to the soft skin behind it, down his jaw, across his cheeks and back to his lips; breathless praise washed over his skin, saying how good Keith was, how good he felt.  
  
Keith knew he was speaking, but the incoherent nonsense didn’t reach his ears. He was most likely babbling about how good Shiro felt, how close he was, and anything else under the sun. He felt Shiro’s hand wrap around his leaking cock, giving it a firm squeeze and pumping in time with his thrusts. Shiro was talking back to Keith, but Keith couldn’t register what he was saying, lost in the bliss Shiro was giving him. With a final thrust, Keith was coming, burying his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck as his vision whited out.  
  
When he finally came to, Shiro was murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, taking him more gently, rocking their bodies together, riding out his own orgasm. Keith’s face felt hot, bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat as he clumsily ran his fingers through Shiro’s hair. Shiro slowed to a stop and stayed there, holding Keith close and breathing against his shoulder, kissing the curve of it softly.  
  
“I’m sorry I was so rough in the beginning.” Shiro sounded like he looked: absolutely wrecked. His voice was like gravel, low and throaty, and it made Keith shiver, wanting to coax that voice to speak again.  
  
“I don’t mind, I liked it,” Keith spoke, his voice a bit raspy as well. He closed his eyes and leaned into Shiro’s touch as Shiro brought his free hand up to swipe at Keith’s bangs, pushing them out of the way.  
  
Shiro went quiet stroking his hair, before letting go and pulling out from inside of Keith, quirking up a smile as he let out a faint whimper. Keith was definitely going to be sore tomorrow, not that he entirely minded. Keith’s eyelids fluttered open, gazing up at Shiro, who was gazing back down at him.  
  
“What?” Keith bluntly asked, eyebrows furrowing together as he scrambled up to his elbows.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Shiro breathed with a smile. He let out a laugh as Keith’s palm slipped on the bedsheet, causing him to fall onto his back, blush creeping up on his cheeks. This clearly wasn’t how Keith imagined things would be afterwards.  
  
“I’m- what?” Keith sounded exasperated, blush only deepening as Shiro grinned at him.  
  
“I said, I think you’re beautiful,” Shiro repeated, bending down to kiss Keith’s forehead, then his nose, then finally his lips. “And I want to do this again with you.”  
  
Keith’s eyes rounded, mouth opening then closing. “Now?”  
  
Shiro laughed, shaking his head before settling down beside Keith, human hand pulling Keith’s body close to his. “No, no, but… maybe another time. Not three in the morning.”  
  
Keith glanced over at the clock. It read 4:27, and Keith smugly looked back over at Shiro and opened his mouth to correct Shiro on the time, but Shiro already had pressed his lips over Keith’s to silence what he would have said. Keith, honestly, didn’t mind this. Eventually he relaxed his body, pressing closer to touch his chest and kissing him earnestly in turn.  
  
“Shiro,” Keith said against his lips, pulling back enough to look at his face. His stupid, wonderful face.  
  
“Keith,” Shiro responded with a smile, fingers threading through Keith’s hair.  
  
Keith opened his mouth to say something else, but then shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth it. “Never mind.” he said, planting another kiss on Shiro’s lips before laying his head against Shiro’s shoulder.  
  
Shiro’s heartbeat was comforting, more comforting than he had thought it would be. Steady and quiet, and Keith sighed against it, pressing his lips to the pulse at Shiro’s neck. The weight of Shiro’s right hand pressing to his back was also comforting. Keith knew how Shiro felt about the Galra part of him, but Keith accepted him wholly, since he himself was part Galra. Shiro accepted that part of him the same way Keith accepted Shiro. In a way, they complimented each other, and as Keith felt the soft touch of Shiro’s lips to his forehead, Keith snaked his arms around Shiro’s torso. Shiro’s breathing grew heavy, his hot breath washing against the top of Keith’s head, signaling he had fallen asleep first. Keith’s eyelids fluttered closed with a faint smile, already thinking of the different ways he would get to wake Shiro in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!  
> follow me on tumblr if you want @sleeepypeaches i'm garbage


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